


Thaw

by StarTravel



Series: Defiance Through Tenderness [11]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Garak is frustrated and Julian is kind of being a brat tbh, Old Wounds, POV Elim Garak, The Slow Process Of Emotional Healing, Unresolved Emotional Tension, harsh words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 08:47:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16850911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarTravel/pseuds/StarTravel
Summary: The first night of their vacation brings back memories of the last time they were alone in a hotel room together, both for better and for worse.





	Thaw

After they arrive on the beautiful but depressingly tacky Risa, Garak expects the warm breeze and soft sheets to be enough to lull Julian away from his work and to the sleep he so desperately needs. Instead Julian slides into the armchair across from the bed, back straight as he runs his fingers across a pad hurriedly. He looks faintly ridiculous, wearing such a serious expression and such a loud tank top at the same time. “You should come to bed.”

 “Certainly even you’re warm enough between the open windows and mountain of blankets.” Julian answers in a clipped voice, not bothering to look up from his pad. The circles under his eyes are just as heavy as ever and the tension in his shoulders has returned as though Garak never touched him. Helping Julian might be more difficult than he anticipated, but Garak’s never been one to back down from a challenge.

 “I meant to rest. This is a vacation, my dear. Certainly you don’t intend to spend all of it working?” Garak makes his voice a suggestion, soft and lolling as he flickers his gaze up Julian’s chest and strained shoulders, past the slim lines of his neck up to the flat planes of his face. There was a time when that kind of look would’ve made Julian flush and grin at him far too widely, following Garak even when it put him in danger.

 Tonight it does nothing, Julian simply scoffing at him over his pad. “A vacation you _forced_ me on by going behind my back to Sisko.”

 “I take it the effects of the massage have worn off then?” Garak lets his word wrap around the smirk on his face, sliding down to sit at the edge of the bed. Julian’s shoulders stiffen further as though to prove his point, neck rigid in a way that looks painful. Though that might just be from the way Julian gnashes his teeth together, hands squeezing against the sides of the padd so tightly Garak’s surprised it doesn’t snap in half.

 Julian gives Garak a tired look, exhaustion both for and not for him. He wonders what’s taken up so much of Julian’s attention even away from the war. The Teplan Blight again? Finding the cure for Ketracel White, treason be damned because Julian feels some tenuous connection to the Jem H’adar, all built in a lab by uncaring parents and doctors? He reaches an arm out toward Julian, whose brow furrows a bit as he finally glances up at Garak. “Go to sleep.”

 “Come here.” Garak lets his voice grow gentle this time, warm and inviting as a heavy glass of kanar as he brushes his palm against the inside of Julian’s wrist. He blinks owlishly when Julian suddenly pulls his hand away, as though his touch burned. Garak lets out a low exhale, not quite able to keep the frustration from seeping into his voice this time. “Julian, let me help you.”

 “Why? So you can know you’ve repaid your debt for the wire? Because it fulfills all those romantic ideas you pretend so stringently not to have?” Julian’s voice is sharp, gaze that particular shade of righteously annoyed and lonely that Garak’s only ever seen on Julian before. Julian sets his padd on the end table so he can wave his hands back and forth. Garak doesn’t answer him, no admittance or denial. He merely watches as Julian’s gaze grows more and more alive. “Because you’re bored on The Defiant and I’m the next best thing until we get back onto the ship, where you can go back to ignoring me and flirting with Cardassians ⅓ of your age.”

 “So you were jealous.” Garak smiles sourly at that, tilting his head to the right as he tries to shove his own anger down. He’s been patient with Julian for weeks now, and really months, but whatever this acidic bent that’s settled over Julian doesn’t seem to be lifting no matter what he does. And now Julian’s telling lies that aren’t even the _slightest_ bit true. Anyone with eyes knows Ziyal’s crush is one-sided. “And really Julian, you’re the one who started avoiding _me_ after the incident with the holosuite.”

 “Ah yes, how I forget. _I’m_ the one in the wrong for not wanting to discuss preloc over tea with you after you considered turning all of my friends into corpses.” Julian’s voice comes out in a biting laugh, eyes charged with emotion. That’s at least better than tears. He leans forward so his bony knees brush against Garak’s, gaze trying for cutting and ending up somewhere closer to huffy.

 That’s not why you started avoiding me.” Garak corrects him as he raises an eye ridge, this time not bothering to hide the chiding tone building in his throat and burning his tongue. Julian chooses to be this controlled, fragile thing when he could be so much more, when _they_ could be so much more. All because the Federation has told him to be, told him that he plays the game wrong whenever he plays it right.

 Julian shakes his head, grinning a little as he presses one hand against the edge of the bed. His voice is purposefully condescending when he speaks, though there’s a ruefulness to his gaze that looks genuine enough to ruin the effect. “Are you ever going to let this go? This nonsensical idea I’m _afraid_ of myself?”

 “Not until you stop denying it so feverently.” Garak answers coolly as he leans back on the bed, away from Julian’s acerbic mouth and slowly thawing gaze. He is no longer sure he can save this man and he has no idea why he thought he could. Not when Julian’s becoming - something else. Something Garak wanted and now does not, desperately clinging to that’s possibility of a melting soon. “I was doing what I had to do to save us.”

 Julian rolls his shoulders, body lean and graceful like a wildcat as he shifts forward, so that he’s barely touching the chair. His gaze is thoughtful, almost analytical as he speak, dragging one hand down the edge of the sheets. But this time he’s also grinning, something almost soft coming into his gaze. “You know, Miles said something similar to me once, and it made me realize the same thing I just realized about you.”

 “Which is?” Garak asks in a clipped voice, nails digging into the sheets near where Julian still drags his hands over them. He can’t answer all the questions here. He knows why Julian stopped seeking him out. He doesn’t know _what_ Julian erroneously thinks the truth is. 

 “You don’t know me at all.” Julian’s voice is light and teasing, the emotions that have been all but erased from his face the past few weeks suddenly back with lightning speed. Especially his eyes, which hold this desperate, almost pleading hope and just a hint of glee. Ah, yes. To be _understood_. That thing Julian chases so desperately but never quite lets himself have.

 “And what, pray tell, would I have done if I knew you?” Garak’s can’t stop the curiosity in his voice, the amusement and exhaustion bleeding into each other. He has no time for this debate they’ve had dozens of time before, if usually in code. 

 Julian leans in again, balancing on one bent thigh against the bed, his right ankle hooked around the edge of the armchair. He smirks, looking far too delighted with himself for someone being so petulant five minutes ago. “You would’ve shot first.”

  Garak pulls him onto the bed with low growl. 

**Author's Note:**

> So, I actually agree with a lot of what Julian thinks/feels here in terms of the events of Our Man Bashir, but obviously his way of communicating his feelings is .. not the best. 
> 
> Please let me know if I should’ve tagged anything else.


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